Look in Your Hand
by illshowmyselfout
Summary: Kurt has had an exciting day, and he allows his whim of exhilaration to guide him into giving blood upon seeing a blood bus parked on his campus. His un- thought out decision, however, is quickly realized just as it's too late… Kurt is afraid of needles, but there is no turning back now. Will doctor!Blaine notice? T for mild language


A/N: This is my second fanfiction on this site, my other one got a lot of positive reviews, so, after a short hiatus, I'm back. This fanfic, like my other, is a hurt/comfort involving medicine related jazz. Also like my other, Blaine is the doctor and Kurt is the patient.

I've decided to write this due to how much blood I have been donating lately. I highly suggest it to any of you, if you are able. It makes you feel awesome, and it saves people's lives. Plus, who knows? Maybe you will meet a cute Doctor! Blaine!

I have yet to decide if this fiction will be chapters long with an impending continuous relationship like my other fic, or simply a oneshot, we shall see. As it stands now, however, it will be a oneshot.

Check out my other fic, Holding Your Hand, but in the meantime, enjoy!

*Please note that any numerical statements are completely fictional*

Illshowmyselfout

* * *

Kurt had to restrain himself from literally skipping out the front door.

He had just received a B+ on a test that would determine his passing or failing of the last math class he ever had to take- _ever._

Just as he had resolved to call Rachel for a bite of lunch to celebrate, he noticed a light blue bus with cartoon red drops all over its windows parked in the front of the parking lot- a few people were sitting in line at the door.

In big, black letters across the side, it read 'RED CROSS BLOOD BUS'.

Kurt smiled to himself, still feeling the adrenaline- filled excitement that had taken over his senses as soon as he saw that glorious B+.

_Rachel can wait… I should totally go give blood. I mean, people are like, dying and are injured all the time, it probably won't hurt at all, and I'll save a bunch of people. Maybe even children! So that they can grow up and get B+s on calculus tests too! This is a good idea._

Kurt headed over to the blood bus, smiling kindly at the two people waiting in line- an elderly woman with a bright red cane and a young man with thick, black, hipster glasses, and a scarf.

Kurt walked over to the woman manning what he assumed to be the check in desk.

"Hi," she greeted warmly, smiling up at him, "would you care to give blood today?"

Kurt smiled back, "yes, I would."

"Okay, we just need to see a government- issued form of ID, and then I need you to fill out some forms."

Kurt dug around in his bag, eventually producing and presenting to the woman his drivers license. He would have blushed at his absolutely atrocious picture, but she was too busy getting together his forms after throwing it a quick glance, and he was too busy gleaming at the fact that he got a B, a freaking _B+ _and was going to save lives, all in one day!

She clipped the few sheets of paper to a red clipboard and handed it to him, her warm smile returning from the distracted look that had taken over while she dug through the many piles of papers that made up her desk top.

"Here you go, dear, the top one is just for you to read, the bottom two are medical questions. Skip any that don't apply to you." She handed him a pen with a rubber blood drop on top.

He sat next to the scarf guy; the old woman had disappeared into the bus.

He fidgeted and blushed at a few of the questions, but, overall, they seemed general and un- spectacular.

When he was done, he flipped over all the pages, carefully examining both sides of every single one, even the one he was just supposed to read, making sure he had filled out all the questions.

He rose and walked back over to the desk when he was done.

As he passed the door to the bus, it opened and he turned around, curious to see if the woman had returned and also childishly excited to see the bus's interior.

A middle aged man with his sleeve rolled up and a neon green wrap around his elbow stepped out. His eyes were weary, but his confidence was radiating. Kurt beamed at him in pride, practically shuffling where he stood in anticipation. A blond woman in pink scrubs had held the door for him, and now she looked down at her clipboard.

"Johnson?"

Scarf guy rose, tucking his ipod into his pocket and gently pulling out his earbuds.

Kurt turned back to the woman at the desk and took a bottle of water she had been offering him.

"Here," she said, smiling at the youthful and giddy anticipation that painted his face, "drink this. It's important to stay hydrated before, during, and after donating."

Kurt smiled and took the water. "Thank you."

He sat down in the seat that had been the old woman's, eager to sit closer to the door.

He untwisted the cap and took a big gulp, the type that hurts your throat because _why the fuck did you take such a big gulp?_

Kurt fiddled with the corner of his bag while his legs fought over positions and his eyes darted around the parking lot excitedly.

He took another sip of water just as the door opened again. The woman who had been their earlier stepped out, her arm wrapped as the man's had been, but with a blue wrap this time. She smiled at him as she lowered her cane to the pavement and steadily sank herself down the steps and towards the cars in the lot.

Kurt's breath hitched as he glanced up at the doctor that had led her out. He was _marvelous. _He had striking brown eyes and the jaw line of a model— _a_ _freaking model! _He was dressed in lavender scrubs and nurse- white shoes.

"Hummel?" He inquired, smiling down at Kurt from the top of the few stairs.

Kurt found his voice, though he still, embarrassingly, slipped over the words, "Um, y-yes… that's- that is me."

Blaine cocked his head at him, smiling beautifully.

"Okay, Mr. Hummel. Care to follow me back?"

Kurt quickly gathered his things and shuffled up the steps, suddenly less interested in the interior of the bus and more interested in this gorgeous example of a man.

Kurt was quick to notice his bulging arms as he walked through the door he was holding open for him.

The nurse led him left, away from many beds that made up the right side of the bus, and into a very, very small chamber with only enough room for a table in the middle and a one person bench on either side. The nurse opened the door that lead to one side of the little area, (it could hardly be considered a room,) and made sure Kurt was seated before closing it and walking to his own little door and settling into the adjacent blue seat.

"So, Mr. Hummel," his velvet voice began as he looked down at his clipboard, "it says here that this is your first time donating… congratulations! You are truly doing your community a favor."

Kurt beamed at the compliment, "thanks, yeah, I saw you guys parked out here and I was just kinda like, why not?"

The nurse nodded at him, rubbing some hand sanitizer into the palms of his hands.

"My name is Dr. Anderson, by the way," he said, pulling on some gloves, "but you can call me Blaine."

"Oh!" Kurt said, "I thought you were a nurse."

"Yeah, most of the time people who do this job are, but I have free times on the weekends, and this is a good use of my time- it helps people, and that's really important to me." He smiled at Kurt before looking down at his clipboard again.

"It says here that you've been out of the country in the past 5 years, would you mind telling me where you went and in what years?"

"London, in 2011," Kurt replied eagerly.

"Okay, good, good," Blaine noted, making a mark on Kurt's sheet.

He skimmed the sheet a bit more, giving Kurt time to marvel at his stunning, curly black hair.

Kurt's gaze was suddenly met with that of Blaine. He blushed and looked away, biting his lip at the smile that was trying to peak through.

Blaine chuckled almost inaudibly before speaking again.

"So this is a thermometer," he said, producing a small strip of paper, "I know it doesn't look like one, but it is. Under your tongue, please," he said, handing Kurt the strip.

Kurt complied while Blaine slipped on a pair of blue latex gloves.

"…just a few more seconds for that thermometer… can I have your arm, please?" He asked, a blood cuff in his hand.

Kurt stuck his arm out and Blaine wrapped the black cuff around his upper arm before gently guiding Kurt's elbow back onto the table.

"Thermometer, please?"

Kurt took it out and handed it to Blaine—Blaine stuck it into a small, black, mechanized box. It beeped twice.

"Looks good, Mr. Hummel, 98.7." He reached over to the pumpy- thingy attached to the cuff and began squeezing steadily, keeping his other hand and eyes fixated on the electronic box it was connected to.

"You can call me Kurt, by the way," Kurt said, smiling at Blaine as he looked up from his intent gaze.

"Okay, Kurt," Blaine smiled as the pressure on Kurt's arm released. Blaine quickly turned his gaze back to the box.

"Good BP, we're just about done." He took the cuff off Kurt.

Kurt fixed his shirt where the cuff had been wrinkling it.

Blaine began resetting the table and producing some gauze, a bandaid, and an unfamiliar purple plastic thing from the shelf on the wall.

_Are we doing the donation here? In this little room? What were all those beds for then? _Kurt wondered, genuinely confused.

"Can I have your hand, Kurt? I need to prick your finger to check your iron level."

Blood rushed to Kurt's head; his eyes widened; his heartbeat was suddenly grossly audible in his ears—_oh fuck. _

"Kurt? Kurt? Are you okay?" Blaine was waving a hand in front of Kurt's face. "Kurt, are you okay?"

Kurt swallowed his terror enough to muster a glance back at Blaine in false reassuring of his okay-ness.

Blaine didn't buy it. "Kurt, take a few sips of your water, take some deep breaths."

Kurt complied; his heartbeat drifting out of his eardrums as he slowly calmed himself by the cool water flowing over his lips while he greedily gulped down half the bottle.

Blaine seemed concerned, he had put down the alcohol swab that he had been holding and turned his full attention at Kurt while he calmed down.

_Why the hell did you think this was a good idea? You are terrified of needles, dummy! Too late to turn back now… plus, this Blaine guy is pretty amazing…._

"Sorry," Kurt muttered, embarrassed, as he closed his water bottle and became fascinated in a spot on the table.

Blaine reached over and patted Kurt's hand. He seemed to hesitate before pulling his hand back. Kurt caught him blushing.

"It's okay, Kurt. Many of our donors are afraid of needles; it's nothing to be sorry for."

Kurt smiled sheepishly, readjusting his position awkwardly.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Blaine asked, a small, encouraging smile pulling at his lips.

"Yeah, I'm good," Kurt lied, placing his hand in Blaine's.

Blaine repositioned his hand so that his ring finger was sticking out. He cleaned Kurt's finger with the alcohol before picking up the purple thing again and turning his focus to Kurt.

"Okay?" He asked once more.

"Yep." Kurt lied again, tensing his hand in preparation.

Blaine knew that tensing before an injection of any sort was not good, but Kurt seemed very afraid of what Blaine was about to do, so, after quickly weighing the option of telling him to relax his arm, he resolved that getting it over with quickly was a better idea.

He pressed the edge of the purple thing into the tip of Kurt's finger. Kurt flinched. Blaine let himself give him a reassuring squeeze before collecting the sample and recording the iron level.

"Hmm, Kurt, have you ever experienced issues with your iron levels before?" Blaine asked, scowling at the 10.2 on the small screen.

"Uh, no," Kurt said, confused, half hoping that an iron issue would mean he could leave.

_But Dr. Anderson, I mean, Blaine is so cute… _He thought blushingly, evaluating the possibilities of leaving or spending a bit more time with Blaine.

"Let's test again, just to be sure. Sometimes the alcohol from the cleaning can affect it." Blaine said, reaching for Kurt's hand again.

Kurt yanked his hand to his chest before realizing how silly he looked and lowering his hand into Blaine's welcoming grasp again.

"You're not going to stick me again, are you?" He asked, embarrassed.

Blaine smiled reassuringly, "no, Kurt, I just need to squeeze a little more blood out of the injection site to get a second reading."

That didn't sound much better than being stuck again, but Kurt, surprisingly, felt no pain while Blaine lightly squeezed his finger again and tested a new sample.

"Ah, there we go. A healthy 13.4, it was the alcohol on your finger." Blaine wrapped Kurt's hand in a bandaid and patted his hand before clearing the table again and rising.

He let Kurt out of the room and asked him to follow him. He took him to a blue bed with the feet part raised and asked him to lie down.

Kurt complied.

There were a few other patients in beds near him, and Kurt yearned to see what the process looked like, but their arms were all covered with small white squares of gauze, so Kurt's dangerously curious mind was left just as worried as he had been before.

The one thing he could see, however, was many bags of blood hanging on plastic hooks next to the beds, and that certainly did not help his nerves at all.

Blaine noticed him looking around worriedly and began reassuring him as he had earlier.

"The bed and the bags and the tubes all make it look pretty daunting, but I promise it's not even close to how bad I'm guessing you think it will be." He smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding Kurt back into a reclined position after his little bus- scope out.

Kurt blushed and smiled up at Blaine from his comfortable position.

_Was that a wink?_

"Okay Kurt, if you wouldn't mind just rolling up your sleeve for me…" Blaine trailed off, putting some materials from the shelf onto a table that was out of Kurt's line of sight.

Kurt rolled up the sleeve on the arm that Blaine had taken his blood pressure on. He would have been more nervous in that moment had it not been for Blaine's forearms pretty much demanding his attention.

Blaine had dealt with many scared patients before, both as a pediatric, day to day doctor and a phlebotomist on the blood van, so he began telling Kurt everything he was going to do before he did it—it was a way of treating patients that he had found very effective in the past.

"Okay, Kurt, now I'm just going to clean the area."

He began cleaning the crook of Kurt's elbow with an iodine sponge. Kurt relaxed his arm onto the little arm table that he had been avoiding since he sat down.

Blaine smiled over the progress. _Good, he's relaxing. That will make this _much _easier._

"Okay, Kurt, I'm going to go ahead and put the needle in now. You will feel a slight pinch, and then I will set up your bag and leave you alone for a bit—this part takes around 15 minutes. Don't move your arm during the process save for squeezing this little thing."

Kurt was worried about the impending pain, but Blaine distracted him by pushing a small, heart shaped stress ball into his hand.

"Squeeze three times and hold," Blaine said, now in all- out doctor mode, looking intently for a vein.

Kurt complied, willing himself to focus on squeezing the little heart and staring at Blaine's luscious hair instead of allowing himself to lose his shit in anticipation.

"1, 2, 3" Blaine said, pushing in the needle.

Kurt jumped and squeezed his eyes shut tight at the pain, but it wasn't bad. When he opened his eyes, Blaine was looking at him reassuringly with the tiniest bit of smugness behind his eyes.

"Was that so bad?" He asked.

"No," Kurt said, not lying this time.

"Good," Blaine smiled, busying himself with the gauze covering the needle in Kurt's arm and hooking Kurt's bag up.

"Squeeze every 3 to 5 seconds, and take deep breaths. I'll be back in a bit." He smiled and nodded at Kurt's responding grin before turning and walking back to the room he and Kurt had occupied earlier.

Kurt leaned his head back and closed his eyes, counting to five steadily in his head over and over, making sure to squeeze perfectly on queue.

Before Kurt even realized much time had passed, Blaine was back.

"How are we feeling, Kurt?" He asked, kneeling to look at the bag connected to Kurt's arm.

"Fine," Kurt replied.

"Good," Blaine said, putting on a new pair of gloves.

"I'm just going to remove the needle now. It won't hurt."

Blaine worked with the tubing on Kurt's arm a bit before pulling the needle out and setting all the materials on the table, refocusing his attention on Kurt's arm. He pressed the gauze gently into the crook of his elbow.

"Pressure please," he asked. Kurt replaced his fingers with his own.

"Oh, and hold your arm above your head."

Kurt complied as he watched Blaine gather the bag and used tubing.

"I'll be right back. Keep your arm above your head, okay?"

"Okay."

Blaine shuffled to a different part of the bus while Kurt pressed on his arm. He noted dully that it hurt more now than the actual sticking had.

Blaine returned.

"What color do you want your gauze to be?" He asked adorably.

"Hmm… purple?" Kurt asked shyly, wanting to match Blaine's scrubs.

"We have that!" Blaine said excitedly as he took the purple wrap from the shelf and tightly wrapped Kurt's arm up.

Kurt smiled to himself childishly… he was actually pretty proud of himself for getting through all this.

"Okay, Kurt, I'm going to go ahead and take you over to the snack area now."

Kurt nodded and accepted Blaine's hand while he got off the bed. He followed Blaine to the end of the bus, where there were a lot of snack items and drinks.

"Have a seat," Blaine offered, ushering him into one of the couches.

"I'll be back in a few, drink something or eat something or both, but make sure you consume something. Try not to walk around until I come back, okay? And if you feel dizzy, just holler, I'll come help you, okay?"

Kurt blushed at all the attention, but smiled. "Okay, Blaine."

Blaine left again, leaving Kurt to drink some apple juice and eat Oreos.

Kurt felt a little light headed, but it was nothing to bother Blaine over, so he took a few deep breaths and sipped his juice slowly while he waited for it to subside. By the time Blaine returned, it had. He smiled at him.

"Okay, Kurt, as long as you feel okay, you are free to go! Thank you for donating today. Here," he said, handing him a small sheet of paper, "this has all the post- donation information you need to know, along with the date of the next time you are eligible to donate."

Kurt took it before rising slowly, (with Blaine's help,) and following him back through the bus to where he came in. Blaine turned towards him.

"Thank you for donating Kurt, it means a lot to the community…" he trailed off, seemingly looking for something to say.

He didn't though; his eyes met Kurt's again before leaning in and kissing him lightly on the cheek.

Kurt was taken aback, and he blushed heavily, not really sure what to do. Blaine's face, however, seemed worried about his reaction, so he smiled at him before leaning in and kissing Blaine lightly on the lips to reassure him that the affection was welcome.

His lips were soft and gentle, and just as Kurt began to get lost in it all, Blaine lightly pulled away and smiled at him.

"I, uh, I'm, I have to go." He sighed sadly.

"How can I reach you again though," Kurt pried, terrified at the idea of never seeing Blaine again.

"Look in your hand." Blaine said with a smile, opening the door.

"It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Hummel, have a beautiful day."

Kurt winked at him as he left, smiling broadly at the people who were waiting in the chairs, each of them wholly unknowing of what had just happened.

As he walked to his car, he quickly turned over the paper Blaine had given him, skipping over the instructions for how and when to remove the gauze.

On the bottom, in a flawless cursive scrawl, there was a note.

_Call me sometime, Kurt, it really was great meeting you._

_(571) 772 -0000_

_~Blaine_


End file.
